


Civvies

by Eireanne_catches_rye



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, calling out dick’s terrible fashion, fashion disaster!dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eireanne_catches_rye/pseuds/Eireanne_catches_rye
Summary: It had to have something to do with growing up in the circus.(Or Wally wishes Dick would not be extra just once in his life.)
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 100





	Civvies

**Author's Note:**

> Getting an AO3 was probably the only way to admit the quarantine has gotten to me. Wanted to test out the system so here’s a dumb fic I wrote way back in 2010 for the DC kink meme. Y’know, back when those were a thing.
> 
> Working on some shorter FFVII and FMA fics in the mean time.
> 
> I personally like to think Dick would’ve worn the 80s Nightwing get up in any timeline

It had to have something to do with growing up in the circus.

That had to be it. Wally was Convinced and could not be Unconvinced of it. Sure, running around as Nightwing in... That feathery, one-piece with the popped-collar from hell had been one thing, Wally had always assumed it was done with a strategic purpose. After all, not much stopped a villain in their tracks quiet like having, well, that come at you. He’d seen the look of complete surprise mingled with horror. Right before Dick is actually on them. Beating the shit out of them. 

And maybe it also had a little influence from the first Robin costume; he couldn’t exactly explain that one away. From the bottom of his heart, in the deepest pit of sincerity he prayed that Batman had just gone with what Robin, child at the time, had decided. Scaly, acid green under-roos and all. Bart and Tim were as close as Dick and he had been at that age. Wally approved. Hell, he’d kind of probably approve of the kid even if he happened to be a flaming ass-wipe, just on the fact alone that he had given the Robin mantel pants.

As it so happened, Tim was not a flaming ass-wipe, his taste in spandex just happened to be a bonus. 

Regardless of Dick’s taste in superhero related garb, it hadn’t been until this moment in time that Wally realized just how bad it was. Sure, Dick couldn’t be trusted to walk into a Value Village without walking out arms laden down with purchases that Wally would ‘accidentally’ relieve the world of, a thankless but rewarding job.

“Wally! You know Polyester-rayon blends don’t iron well!” Dick complained, cradling the remains of his most recent treasure-hunt, neon yellow button up with puffy sleeves.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dick I can’t believe—Again? I thought for sure I unplugged the iron this time….” He had turned it on high and conveniently left in on top of the freshly folded basket of laundry…

“Well at least it didn’t get the other one…” He mumbled reaching deeper into the basket discarding multiple ruined sweaters and shirts for an orange and turquoise pullover. Complete with Aunt-Lonely’s favorite kitty-cat print. Damn it.

To be fair there was no way he could get them all every time, too often and it started to look suspicious. 

Of course, Dick wears the sole survivor of Wally’s cold blooded attempted sweater genocide everywhere. He pairs it with lime green, cherry print Bermuda shorts. And black, woolen socks stuffed into his favorite white man-sandals. His boyfriend wears mandles. He cringes but takes his hand anyways. Dick smiles at him, cobalt eyes twinkling over aviators he picked up at a flea market somewhere when his back was turned. Wally kind of likes them, horizontal neon green lines of plastic like window-shades over tinted lenses.

But the rhinestone incrusted, neon pink Speedo Dick wears on their trip to the beach is too much. For a moment he had let his guard down. Assumed that the rainbow lawn gnome swim trunks were all he was going to have to worry about.

God. Was. He. Wrong. 

Fuck. He doesn’t wait for other people to see, whisking Dick into his arms and sprinting back to their hotel room. Dropping him on the bed, on top of the orange faux fur jacket he’d worn on the trip down. (Had he mentioned yet this was a beach vacation?)

He really hopes Dick doesn’t get the wrong impression, that the little band of pink and glitter was some kind of turn on, because he’s pulling it off stripping it down strong thighs and muscled calves, past boney ankles and sensitive toes before his brain can actually comprehend what his hands are doing. He stretches it back on his thumb like a rubber band. It goes out the window, onto some other sad bastard’s poor balcony. 

And Dick, eyes wide, is staring at him. And he happens to be naked. In their bed.

“Well,” He says after a very long time. “At least I have a strategy next time you take too long getting me naked.”

Wally snorts, leaning down, pressing Dick back against the mattress burying his mouth in the crook of his neck. “Yeah, like you’ve ever had a problem with that.“

**Author's Note:**

> Party rock on Dick, don’t let Wally squash your sparkle


End file.
